Arcanum (Tales from the Tarot)

29. Chris

Chapter twenty-nine

Chris

“ I need to go see Nemo,” Greyson murmured over breakfast, more to himself than me, his plate of food untouched in front of him.

I swallowed my bite of eggs before asking, “The Magic Shop guy?”

Greyson blinked and looked up at me, like he just realized he’d spoken out loud. “Yes. I was thinking, maybe I was hexed. Or cursed. That would explain yesterday. The suddenness of it all. I’m telling you, it was the strangest feeling.”

“Or maybe it’s your meds?” I sipped my coffee, waiting for an outburst or confusion, since he’d never mentioned medication in any of our prior conversations. Not that I blamed him. Mental health was a touchy topic for a lot of people.

“What?” Greyson’s eyes widened, apparently more alarmed than mad that I knew about it.

“The antidepressant you’re on. Sometimes, I guess, they can make people suicidal.”

He cocked his head, his eyebrows knitting together as he cupped his mug between his hands. “Well that seems counterproductive.”

“Kinda what I said.” I dunked my strip of bacon into the syrup and took a bite, stealing a glance at his stack of pancakes. Other than the tea, he hadn’t touched a thing. Maybe his stomach was still upset from the night before.

“So much for HIPAA,” he muttered. Before I could apologize, he continued, not nearly as pissed as I thought he would be. “Do you really think that’s why?”

I shrugged. “You tell me. How are you feeling?”

“Embarrassed. Tired. Like it was all a bad dream.”

“But you don’t want to hurt yourself?”

He shook his head.

“You don’t want to die? You don’t think the world is better off without you?” I continued, doing my own damn screening.

“No.” He took my hand and squeezed it gently, extra warm from his non-lethal tea, which I’d personally steeped to make sure there weren’t any more “accidents” or whatever lie he’d used at the hospital. “That overwhelming helplessness from yesterday is gone. I want to be here, with you. Always.”

“Ok. Then maybe don’t take that pill anymore and check in with your doctor?” I kept my voice as soft and non-judgy as possible, trying to make sure my kid gloves were firmly in place.

Nodding sheepishly, he withdrew his hand and sipped his tea.

“And one more thing,” I said, cutting into the remainder of my pancakes with my fork, as if this was an ordinary conversation. “Promise me that you’ll call me if you ever feel like that again? I don’t care what time it is or what’s happening or where I am. If you call, I’ll answer. Promise?”

Greyson nodded again, finally picking up his fork and scooping up some eggs. “I promise.”

“Ok. Now do you still want to see the fish guy?”

He cracked a smile and shook his head. “He’s been around longer than the fish. A lot longer. And yes, I think I should.”

“I’ll drive.”

Two hours later, we were in a Chicago neighborhood I’d never seen and probably never would again. Pretty much as soon as we left Belmont County, I started getting itchy. I needed to get back to endless fields of corn and dairy cows as soon as possible. Going to Chicago might as well have been like going to a foreign country. You should need a passport to cross the Cook County line.

Greyson directed me to a narrow brick building squished between two larger structures, as if someone constructed it in an alley. A faded red sign hung out front stating Magic Shop , and that was it.

“For some reason, I thought it would be purple,” I murmured, parallel parking in front of the store. The fact we could even get parking so close was a miracle. I figured I’d be shelling out thirty dollars to use one of the parking garages and then have to hoof it for ten blocks. Maybe I should get a lottery ticket on my way home.

“It’s like you were born to live in the city,” Greyson said after I successfully shifted the Blazer into park.

“Fuck no I’m not. And just so you know, I do have two guns on me.”

He bit his lip, trying to stifle a laugh. I was glad he was amused because I was not. The traffic? The people? I’d been on edge since we crossed over Rt. 59. “What do you think is going to happen?”

“I don’t know. That’s the point. I don’t trust anyone in this city. If I had another ankle holster, I would have brought three. Damn it!” I slammed the heel of my hand against my steering wheel. “I should have called Luke. I know he has an extra.”

“That’s a little excessive, cowboy.”

“I like being prepared.”

“Trust me. If anything happened here, Nemo’s got it covered.” On that cryptic remark, Greyson exited the car and made his way into the narrow brick building.

As soon as I crossed the threshold, I sneezed. Three times. The air inside had the same musty heaviness as an antique store, combined with thick incense smoke that made everything hazy.

I could barely make out anything beyond what was right in front of my face. In addition to the smoke, the store was cram-packed with stuff, including a whole section of old books, which I blamed for the smell. Partially. Because across from it was a section with herbs and oils that put Greyson’s kitchen to shame. Another area was chock full of candles and crystals. Based on Grey’s living room, I already envisioned coming home with a few more of those.

Every time he mentioned “The Magic Shop,” I’d expected gimmicks. Stuff for parlor tricks and magic hats, like silk scarves and collapsible bird cages. But I guess in this case the “magic” was more Greyson’s style of magic than Vegas stage magicians.

While I meandered through the narrow aisles, trailing Greyson and trying not to knock anything over, he made a beeline toward the back. I lost sight of him when my sleeve got snagged on a bronze antler sticking out of a little statue’s head.

Just as I was about to call out to him, a man in a top hat appeared out of nowhere, climbing down a rolling ladder with an old book in one hand. I glanced up, surprised to see the bookcase soared upwards to the second floor and beyond, disappearing into a domed roof. From the outside, the building hadn’t looked that tall. Or fancy.

“May I help you?” the man asked in a soft, accented voice. Between that and his darker complexion, I guessed he wasn’t from around here. Maybe the Mediterranean? Didn’t matter.

“I’m just browsing,” I said, smoothing down my sleeve and praying I didn’t break anything.

“Perhaps you were before, but you’ve found what you desire.” He gestured grandly with a white-gloved hand, his knowing smile never wavering.

I looked at the table closest to me, laden with crystals of all shapes and sizes. There was a carving of a sun and a moon in some sort of black crystal that was pretty cool, but beyond that, I had no idea what the dude was talking about. And as far as sales tactics went, it wasn’t very effective.

“Good to know,” I replied, glancing around for Greyson or any other excuse to exit the weird conversation.

“Life is all about balance. Moderation. Temperance , if you will.” Top Hat set the book down and reached for the black carving. The trinket vanished from sight. I blinked and looked at the man, brows furrowing. He twisted his hand and the round carving reappeared out of nowhere, gleaming with a golden sheen under the lights.

I smirked. “Nice trick.”

“Magic isn’t about parlor tricks or fantastic hats.” He smiled, his teeth bright against his olive skin, and flicked the brim of his top hat as he echoed the sentiment I’d thought just moments ago. “It’s seeing the unseen. Hearing the unspoken. Believing the unbelievable.”

“I’m more of a see it/touch it kind of guy. I don’t really—this isn’t my thing. I’m here with my fri—”

“Lover.”

“Whoa. Ok. That’s one word for it. Um—” I cleared my throat, trying to recover from his bluntness. Greyson and I hadn’t even put a label on it, let alone one as intimate as “lovers.” I’d have maybe gone with “boyfriend,” if pushed to define it. But not this guy. He swung for the damn fences.

“Love is the strongest magic of all.” He cocked his head, looking at me with the same intensity that Greyson did, like he was seeing into my soul. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

The back of my neck grew hot. I’d just come to terms with the whole “love” thing myself but I still hadn’t said it, out loud, to the guy who mattered and yet Top Hat was going on and on about it like it was no big deal. “Do you know Greyson?”

“Of course. I’m The Owner. I know everyone, Chris.”

“So you’re Nemo.”

“That’s one name people use. People like labels. It makes them comfortable. Naming a thing makes it easier to process. Don’t you think?”

I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or not. Before I came to any kind of conclusion, Greyson’s reassuring hand slid along my elbow and down my forearm, his fingers lacing with mine.

“I see you’ve met Nemo,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah. We were just chatting. So, Nemo. Have you seen that mov—ow!” I frowned at Greyson, the inside of my arm throbbing from where he’d pinched it. He smiled innocently at the weirdo in the top hat like he hadn’t done a thing.

“Gold sheen obsidian,” Nemo said, waving a hand over the top of the sun and moon carving like a showman. “My present to you.” He deposited the carving in my palm and turned to Greyson, handing him a purple envelope. Where he’d pulled it from, I had no idea, but I wasn’t in the mood for guessing games or magic tricks. “And my present to you.”

“You already did a reading?” Greyson asked, taking the envelope reverently.

Nemo shook his head. “I used the crystal ball.”

I lifted my eyebrows, doing everything in my power not to snort. That was the most woo-woo I’d seen Greyson get and I couldn’t stop my bullshit meter from dinging every two seconds. A crystal ball? Were they serious?

They both looked at me at the same time, identical frowns on their faces.

“Woo-woo?” Nemo asked, sliding a curious look at Greyson.

A nervous tingle pricked along the back of my neck. I knew I hadn’t said it out loud.

“Ok. Thanks for the thing,” I said, holding up the carving. “But you two are freaking me out.”

“Take this too,” Greyson said, slipping a yellow and brown crystal into my palm. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“What is it?”

“Tiger’s eye,” he answered with a smile, as if it was obvious.

I wasn’t even going to ask. At that point, I just wanted out of the suffocating store before I stuck my foot in my mouth again.

“Many blessings,” Nemo said, holding his gloved hand up in farewell.

“Yep. You too.” I turned quickly, nearly knocking over a shelf full of crystals. Steadying it, I wove my way through the maze, back to the front, and burst out into the sunlight. Breathing in the cold, polluted Chicago air in desperate gulps, my head finally started clearing. It was probably all of the damned incense in there.

Greyson appeared a moment later, as he said, sliding into the passenger seat with a visibly peaceful expression.

“That was fast,” I said, turning the Blazer on.

“He’s a man of few words.” Yeah. A few cryptic words…

“So, you got what you needed?” Pulling out into traffic, I couldn’t help but glance in my rearview mirror at The Magic Shop. I thought I’d be able to spy the red sign as I drove, but it was gone. It looked like the store had vanished, which was impossible. Must have been the light. Or the angle of the mirror.

“Right here.” Greyson held up the purple envelope, drawing my attention to it before I forced my eyes back to the road in front of me, where they belonged.

“Is that a curse or something?”

He chuckled softly. “If only it were that easy.”

“Why isn’t it? I mean, that’s what you do , right? Witches? You come up with potions and curses and—”

“Woo-woo?” Greyson interjected with a grin.

I slid him a look when I stopped for a red light. “Is there a better word for it?”

“There are certainly nicer words.”

“It’s not not nice,” I countered. “It’s—look, we already know I’m operating with a brain that’s one step above Neanderthals, ok? I don’t have the vocabulary to explain all of your… stuff.”

“Witchcraft? Magic? Manifesting? Divination? Protection?” He raised his eyebrows, amused once again by my bumbling. “What ‘stuff,’ specifically, are you struggling with?”

“All of the above. I mean, you two were talking about a crystal ball like it’s something more than a Hollywood gimmick. I don’t know how to react to that. And how the hell did you two know what I was thinking at that exact moment?”

“It was practically written on your forehead. Besides, you’ve used that endearing phrase before.”

“That explains you, but not Nimrod.”

“Nemo. And I’m sure it was a coincidence.”

“So neither of you can read minds?” God, I felt like an idiot for even asking.

“No.”

“But you think that a deck of cards will tell you the future? Or a crystal ball or whatever.”

“I don’t think the future is set in stone, but divination can give you an insight into what’s coming and how to deal with it. It can help you reflect on the past, too. Force you to see different aspects of yourself that you’d rather not acknowledge.”

“Uh-huh. And what about curses? You implied they’re real.”

“They’re very real.”

“Ok, so why don’t you curse Don and make him stay away from you?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Explain it to me like I’m five.”

Greyson sighed, looking out the window for a moment before angling himself toward me again. “I tried. Not a curse, but I tried using magic when the stalking first started. It worked—until it didn’t. The more his hatred grew, the less effective my magic became. I’m afraid if I were to actually curse him, it would backfire. It doesn’t matter how clear my intention is, his hatred is too strong.”

“There’s no magical way to stop him. There’s no legal way to stop him.” Exhaling sharply, I gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter, imagining it was Don I was strangling. “What’s left?”

“I don’t know. I’m hoping this has an answer.” Greyson held up the envelope again.

“And what about this thing?” I picked up the carving from the cupholder, running my thumb absentmindedly over the sun’s face.

Plucking it out of my hand, Greyson smiled at the carving. “It’s simply a present.”

I shot him a look out of the corner of my eye. “Nothing with you is simple. What’s the woo-woo meaning?”

“The magical meaning is to help clear your aura and release negativity.”

“Rude.”

He chuckled, pressing it into my hand again and curling my fingers around it gently. “It’s about unblocking things when they get stuck. It gives you the insight to fix what’s broken or make improvements moving forward. It’s also very useful for scrying and meditation.”

“Scrying?”

“Divination.”

I shook my head. I wanted to tell him that no one could predict the future and that rocks weren’t magical but he’d already proven that wasn’t true. Somehow he knew things before they happened. They weren’t wild guesses. He fucking knew . And ever since he gave it to me, that black rock of his had lived in my vest carrier. Mostly because I forgot about it. But after bad calls, I found myself touching the hard lump under the fabric and breathing a little easier.

Which was stupid, right? I was practical and down to earth. I always had been. But there were things in the world that science couldn’t explain. Things people a thousand times smarter than me couldn’t explain after lifetimes of studying and research.

I wasn’t religious, but I also wasn’t skeptical enough to discredit miracles.

Maybe magic was where those two things intersected. Combining a little faith with natural objects and hoping for the best. Each time it worked out, your faith got a little stronger, meaning the magic got a little stronger, giving you the ability to do more things. And on and on and on. Maybe that’s how Greyson did what he did…

“It’s already working,” he said softly, sliding his hand over my shoulder and caressing the nape of my neck.

“What is?” I asked warily.

“The unblocking.”

My gaze darted to the carving in my hand before drifting up to Greyson’s face. A soft smile touched his lips. Soft and knowing . As always.